THE KILLIGREWS;
DIPLOMATISTS, WARRIORS, COURTIERS, AND POETS.
'Fuimus.'
A little ploughed field in the parish of St. Erme, about five miles north of Truro, on a farm still called Killigrew, is the site of the old residence of this distinguished family. Their place knows them no more; and even their own name is, with the sole exception just referred to, and in one or two instances where it appears as a Christian name of some of their remote descendants, 'clean blotted out.' Yet it was once—as the old Cornish word implies—'a grove of eagles'; for we shall find that their race soared high, and produced examples of each of the distinguished classes noted above; and that their memory is worthy of their tombs in Westminster Abbey, and of a local monument—the pyramid which one who married into the family and assumed the name, in the latter part of the seventeenth century, erected at Falmouth in 1737-38.[51] There is some reason to believe that the family was of royal descent. The first of the name whom I have been able to trace, is one Ralph Killigrew, said to have been a natural son of Richard, Earl of Cornwall, and King of the Romans, by his concubine Joan de Valletort. Hence, so it is said, the double-headed spread eagle and the 'border bezanty' of the family arms.[52] Henry, Otho, Simon, Thomas, John, and Maugan are other Christian names of very early Killigrews.
Lysons gives the following instances of their being at an early date possessors of lands in Cornwall: John de Killigrew, of Killigrew, had £20 a year or more in land in 1297; Henry de Killigrew held a military feu in Orchard Marries (? Marrais) in the hundred of Stratton in 3rd Henry IV. (1402); Rad. de Killigrew held a 'feod. parv.' at some place in the hundred of Powder; Henry, son of Maugi de Killigrew, had a similar tenure in Trewyn, in the same hundred—and they retained the Manor of Killigrew till 1636, so Lysons says. I may add, as an early instance of the name being mentioned, that there was a Richard (or Michael) Killigrew, one of a riotous lot of junior scholars at Merton College, Oxon, about the year 1350.
After the lapse of about a century and a half from the time of Ralph, one of the Killigrews married the heiress of Arwenack, near Falmouth—a lady of broad lands, for her estates extended, it is said, from Arwenack (an old Cornish name which is said to signify either 'the beloved, still cove,' or 'upon the marsh') to the mouth of the Helford river, a distance along the coast of some five or six miles. To this place, overlooking the beautiful waters of Falmouth Haven, then a deeper and far more important harbour than it is at present, the Killigrew of the day, Simon by name, moved from his ancestral abode in St. Erme sometime during the reign of Richard II., probably about 1385; and here the Killigrews remained for nearly four centuries, acting as governors of Pendennis Castle for a great part of that period, intermarrying with many of the oldest Cornish families, and attending at the Courts of Henry VIII., Elizabeth, the first and second James, the first and second Charles, and William III.—loyal, able, and trusted adherents.
The earliest monument to any member of the family is, so far as I can ascertain, the brass in Gluvias Church, near Penryn, to Thomas Killigrew and his two wives Joan and Elizabeth, and all their children.[53] On the brass Thomas Killigrew is described as a gentleman ('generosus'); he is represented in the costume of the latter part of the fifteenth century, in a long handsome robe trimmed with fur, and carries on his right shoulder his hat, after the fashion of the time—a wealthy merchant, in all probability. Thus far and no further, I regret to say, can I trace anything of interest respecting the early Killigrews.
But we now approach comparatively modern times, and are soon bewildered by the number of more or less illustrious names from which to select examples. A genealogical table, which I compiled for my guidance, offers at least fifty names not unknown in history, and of whose possessors accounts, not without interest, might be given.[54] But to do this would be to write a book instead of a chapter; and a far smaller number must suffice.
The Killigrew family seems naturally to divide itself into two classes, roughly speaking, complementary to each other: viz., the elder branch, which was on the whole the steadier and the more prosperous, whose present representative (by marriage) is the Earl of Kimberley, Secretary of State for India; and the younger branch (now also extinct in the male line) more fertile than the former in statesmen, soldiers, and wits. This division it is proposed to adopt in the following notices of both branches of the family.
Seniores priores. Let us commence with the first John Killigrew, of importance, upon record. His brass, like that of the first Thomas, is to be found in another little village church—St. Budock by name—near Falmouth. Evidently a grim warrior, covered cap-à-pied with plate armour, and associated in the representation with his wife—one of another good old Cornish family (now also extinct)—Elizabeth, daughter of James Trewinnard of St. Erth. This John was a rich man, his estate being worth no less than £6,000 a year; and he was the first Captain of Pendennis Castle, built on his own ground, under his own superintendence, and with the co-operation of Thomas Treffry of Place (who, by the way, married Elizabeth Killigrew, John's sister), in the reign of our castle-building King, Henry VIII. The same John Killigrew was appointed in 1551, together with Sir William Godolphin and Francis Godolphin, to survey the Islands of Scilly, and to build a fort there; no doubt that which stands on St. Mary's Isle, and is now known as Elizabeth Castle, with its inscription, 'E.R. 1593,' over the principal entrance. He was, moreover, sheriff for the county, and in that capacity wrote a letter, dated at Truro, to Cardinal Wolsey, on the subject of a threatened French invasion. Not content with building a castle for his King, John built (or rather rebuilt) for himself (about 1571, according to Hals), Arwenack House, in such a style that it was reputed the finest and most costly in the county at that time. Little did he think that one of his descendants was to see it almost entirely destroyed, either by Waller, or by the owner himself, to prevent its falling into the enemy's hand, nearly a century later. Some part of the structure still stands, and is used as a manor-office; and here is preserved a conjectural restoration of Arwenack House in its long-since-departed glory.
To him succeeded his son, Sir John Killigrew, Knight, as second captain of the fortress. I find nothing further recorded of him, save that he married one Mary Wolverston,[55] and that when he died on the 5th March, 1584, he too was buried at St. Budock.
His son John—third of the name—seems to have been, according to some contemporary accounts, a man of no very high character; in fact, he has been stigmatized as 'a pirate,' an 'avoider of his debts,' 'a gamester,' and 'spendthrift.' Amongst the Lansdowne MSS., in the British Museum, are preserved accounts of his misconduct. One, dated 7th March, 1588/9, is a 'Complaynte against John Killigrew of ye County of Cornwall, of many of his ill demeners.' First comes a list of his 'knowen debtes' to Her Majesty and others. Then the document sets forth that, notwithstanding many judgments obtained against him, he 'satisfieth no man;' but rides abroad, attended by armed servants, defies the bailiffs, and commits all sorts of high-handed irregularities. It concludes with the statement that he endeavours to satisfy his wealthier creditors with vain promises, and the poorer ones with blows and threatening words; and in fact, the complainants say it would require 'a hole quire of papr' to sum up all his misdeeds. His boarding and pillaging a Danish ship, and some similar acts of violence, are set forth by Sir Julius Cæsar in other documents of this series; and our hero, together with one William Ewens, are set down as 'notorious pirates.' That he did not obtain the honour of knighthood under such circumstances is hardly to be wondered at.
I cannot, however, help thinking that he has been debited with many of the misdeeds of one Peter Killigrew, who lived a century before him, but whose exact connexion with the family I have been unable to trace satisfactorily. Perhaps the one mentioned in Strype's 'Memorials of Edward VI.,' of whom it is observed, in 1552, that one 'Strangwich' (? Restronguet), 'and two Killigrews with him, were such notable sea-rovers, that, in the month of February of that year, the King sent a letter to the French King, that he would do his endeavour for the apprehension of them.' And yet, in 1592, a Mr. Killigrew, according to the same authority, was appointed, at Sir Walter Raleigh's request, on a commission to inquire into the matter of the distribution of the spoil of a certain richly-laden Spanish carrack, 'The Mother of God' taken by some of Sir Walter's ships on her return from the East Indies. Indeed, there is considerable difficulty in identifying some of the Killigrews of the sixteenth and early in the seventeenth centuries. But the fact is, that not only were the Killigrews concerned in exploits of this nature, but there were many others amongst the west-countrymen who, under Sir Peter Carew, slipped over to France, and did a little privateering against Spain on their own account, being anxious to do all in their power to prevent the marriage of Mary with Philip of Spain. A Killigrew of this date had three ships under his command, according to the Calais MSS. 'Wild spirits of all nations,' says Froude—'Scots, English, French, whoever chose to offer—found service under their flag. They were the first specimens of the buccaneering chivalry of the next generation, the germ out of which rose the Drakes, the Raleighs, the Hawkinses, who harried the conquerors of the New World.' Ultimately the Godolphins and Killigrews were threatened with prosecution, but nothing came of it. By his wife Dorothy, daughter of Thomas Monck of Potheridge, Devon, John is said to have had nine sons and five daughters, though I can only trace ten children altogether. She was the sister of General Monck, Duke of Albemarle, whose exploits on behalf of his royal masters, and especially the prominent part he took in the restoration of Charles II., are well-known matters of history. I have referred somewhat more fully to this in the chapter on the Grenvilles.
This John (whom we have called the third) had two brothers, Thomas and Simon, both of whom were Court favourites. Some other Cornish gentlemen of the time seem to have been equally popular with the Queen, as Elizabeth said of them that they were all 'born courtiers, and with a becoming confidence.' Queen Elizabeth sent Thomas on an embassy to the Count Palatine of the Rhine; and I find that he was also commissioned to seize a certain ship of Brittany at 'Pensans' (Penzance), and to 'distribute the spoil among such as by certain Britaines have been heretofore spoiled of their goods and wronged.' Rough and ready justice this, seemingly, and a lesson from which some subsequent Killigrews, as we shall find, did not fail to take a hint. John's younger brother, Simon, was, to some extent, a herald, as appears by a letter from him on the subject of the Manaton coat of arms, preserved amongst the Harleian MSS. (1079), in the British Museum. The two younger brothers added to the family estates by purchases of a property, with a town-house at Lothbury; a country seat at Kineton (? Kempton) Park, near Hampton Court; besides sundry lands and manors in East Cornwall, Devon, and Lincolnshire. Of their two sisters, Mary and Katherine, I can learn nothing, except that the latter married twice.
To return, therefore, to the main line—Sir John, the fourth and last of that name (for Sir William, the eldest son, who was made a baronet in 1661, and was buried in Westminster Abbey in 1665, would seem to have led an uneventful life, and need not detain us), was knighted at Whitehall on 8th November, 1617; he was 'a good, sober man,' and was likewise, I fancy, a Captain of Pendennis. He seems, moreover, to have been the chief promoter, at great pecuniary loss, of the first beacon-light on the Lizard, for which he obtained a patent from King James I., in 1619.[56] But he had the misfortune to marry an unsuitable partner—Jane, the daughter of Sir George Fermor—about whom Hals tells the following story (the credibility of which Davies Gilbert thought was at least questionable; but the tradition is still locally extant).[57]
Towards the close of Elizabeth's reign, two Dutch ships of the Hanse Towns League, and therefore under special protection, sailed into Falmouth Harbour, driven there either by the Spaniards or by stress of weather. They had scarcely arrived before Dame Killigrew, accompanied by some ruffians, boarded the Dutch ships, slew the owners, and seized two hogsheads of pieces of eight, which she took 'for her own use.' This high-handed proceeding of course produced remonstrances on the part of the rightful proprietors of the money, and led to the trial, conviction, and execution of all the offenders, save the lady herself, at Launceston. She barely escaped, and not without the utmost interest having been made for her with the Queen by Sir John Arundell, of Tolverne, and Sir Nicholas Hals, of Pengerswick.
Nor was this the only irregularity for which the authorities of Pendennis were complained of. In 1631 the Castle guns were fired upon the King's ships! and on the 2nd November in that year a Captain Kettleby writes thus: 'None disturb the free trade in those parts more than the Captain of Pendennis Castle—he is at peace with neither King's ships, nor others—both the Admiral and the writer have been twice shot at by him in going in and out. The last shot fell in the town of St. Mawes, but only hurt one woman.' Possibly the explanation of such apparently wanton mischief as this is to be found in the rivalry which existed for precedence between the two castles, Pendennis and St. Mawes, on opposite sides of the harbour mouth—a rivalry so intense as to have finally rendered a compromise indispensable.
Whether the details of the story of Dame Mary, or Dame Jane (an 'old Jezebel,' as her enemies called her) be true or not; whether it be a distorted reproduction of some of the misdeeds of her father-in-law, the third John; or whether the real cause of the misunderstanding between her husband and her faithless self was the now fast-growing rivalry between the ports of Penryn and Falmouth—this much at least is certain: that in the year 1633 Dame Jane gave to the mayor of 'Permarin,' and his successors in office for ever, a handsome silver chalice, still used as a loving-cup at the mayor-choosings, on which it is recorded that the Penryn mayor succoured her when she was 'in greate miserie.'[58] The unhappy pair were divorced, without issue; the husband dying in 1632 or 1636, and his wife twelve years afterwards.
A few words may be added here on the subject of the harbour. Penryn, the more ancient port, lies at the head of a long, tortuous creek; more secure, doubtless, from its position, and its once stockaded channel, from an enemy's ships than Falmouth was before the erection of Pendennis and St. Mawes Castles; and to Truro the same remark applied with still greater force. The rivalry between the two more ancient ports, Penryn and Truro, and the comparatively modern Falmouth, was, as may be supposed, of the keenest; but the natural advantages of Falmouth—at length defended by two forts, and aided by the powerful interest of the Killigrews—prevailed; and Falmouth, too, became 'a port.' A town—now one of the largest, busiest, and gayest of the quiet towns of Cornwall—accordingly sprang up around the once lonely site of Arwenack.[59]
Failing issue of the eldest brother, Sir William, the first baronet—and also of Sir John—Sir Peter, first knight of that name, now becomes the representative of this, the elder branch of the family: 'a merry youth, bred under the Earl of Bristol,' says one authority—and known as 'Peter the Post,' as another tells us, from the alacrity with which he despatched 'like wild-fire' all the messages and other commissions entrusted to him in the King's cause. On him was laid the important duty of conveying from Oxford the King's proposals to the Parliament in January, 1645. Like Rupert himself, he seems to have been in perpetual motion; and on one occasion, during 'Oliver's usurpation,' Sir Peter rode from Madrid, through France, and having passed the sea, got to London in seven days. Like Sir Tristram in the 'Monks and Giants,'
'From realm to realm he ran, and never staid.'
He was one of those who very nearly succeeded, it is said, in enabling Charles I. to effect his escape into France; and it was in his time that (as it is said) in revenge for his attachment to the Stuart cause, the mansion of Arwenack was ruined by Waller during the memorable operations of the siege in the time of the Civil War. It is, however, not improbable that its destruction was commenced by its patriotic owner in order to prevent its occupation by the enemy. Pendennis was the last castle (except Raglan) which held out for the King's cause;[60] but on the 16th August, 1646, it too was forced to surrender (though with flying colours, and all the honours of war) to Fairfax, after a terrible five months of siege 'and famine and harsh wounds,' endured gallantly by old John Arundell of Trerice, then nearly eighty years of age.
The author of these verses, after the surrender, significantly, and not unnecessarily, added the ensuing note:
The family estates, worth, at one time, £6,000 a year, had sadly dwindled away by the time they came into the second Sir Peter's possession; indeed, they are said to have been worth no more than about £80 a year; yet he contrived to become elected M.P. for Camelford, and by 1630 had married Mary, the sister of Lord Lucas, of Colchester, Earl Pembroke giving the marriage portion of 'a good £300 a year;' and the Mercurius Politicus for 15th March, 1660, informs us that in that month he was made Governor of Pendennis by General Monk. This Sir Peter continued, like his predecessors, a sturdy champion of Falmouth. He got the Custom House removed from its old place at Penryn, to his own more modern town; carved the parish of Falmouth out of that of St. Budock (15 Charles II.); and, with the assistance of the King and others, built and endowed the church, dedicated to the memory of King Charles the martyr,[61] where his own bones first, and then those of other Killigrews after him, were laid. Some accounts give 1670 as the date of his death; others say—probably more accurately—that he died on the road to Exeter, in 1667: possibly killed on one of his break-neck rides; for, as we have seen, he was a man of no common energy and daring. He left three children: Peter, William, and Elizabeth.
Of the sister it seems unnecessary to say more than that she married a Count de Kinski, a title which, I believe, still survives. William, who died unmarried in 1678, became a soldier of fortune, and ultimately a general officer; and he was commander-in-chief of some Danish forces, sent by the Spaniards against the Swedes. After one of his successful engagements, he sold certain captured horses (his share of the spoil) to His Majesty of Denmark for some £3,000. But failing to get his money from his royal employer, the general executed the military movement known as 'right-about-face,' and transferred his sword to the Dutch, by whom his valour was more honourably rewarded. I have failed to trace the details of his career; but he seems to have been recalled to England at the Restoration, and had a regiment of foot. His nephew succeeded to his estate, which Martin Lister says was 'composed more of honour than of substance.'
It is, however, with the elder son of this generation that we have chiefly to deal, for through him the succession was kept up. Sir Peter, the second baronet (inheriting that title from his uncle, the foregoing Sir William, the first), was born in 1634, and was educated, notwithstanding his father's reduced estate, first at Oxford, and afterwards in France. Whilst he was at Oxford, the horrible execution of Anne Green, for murdering her infant illegitimate child, took place. After hanging for half an hour, she recovered her life in consequence of judicious medical treatment; and full particulars of the event are given in a rare little volume published at Oxford in 1651, and entitled 'News from the Dead.' To this work many of the members of the university contributed short sets of verses, some in Latin, some in English. The following lines were those supplied by the Cornish baronet:
'Pet. Killigrew, Eq. Aur. fil. Coll. Reg.'
And here is a specimen of his powers as a writer of Latin verse, on a very different subject:
In 1662, Sir Peter, who had been made Governor of Pendennis on the Restoration, married the handsome, virtuous, and accomplished Frances Twysden, daughter of Sir Roger, the well-known judge of that name;[62] and the union appears to have been a happy one in every respect, save as to the offspring. Peter, the eldest, died young; George, the second son, was killed in a tavern brawl at Penryn (at the house of a Mr. Chalons, says Tonkin), by 'a stab in the back' from a barrister named Walter Vincent. Another account states that the skull, which was found in 1861, showed that the hole made by the rapier was clearly visible in the forehead. Frances, the elder daughter, married a Cornish gentleman named Richard Erissey,[63] who 'cast her off' three years after their marriage. Ann, the youngest, who died without issue, married Martin Lister, a Staffordshire gentleman and soldier of fortune, who assumed the name of Killigrew, and managed the estates for many years. Clearly the main stem of the great race of Killigrew was rapidly decaying!
On the death, or murder, of his son George, old Sir Peter, who had gone to live at Arwenack in 1670, disappointed at having no male issue, and sick of the innumerable squabbles in which he found himself involved with the Falmouth folk, retired, first to London, and then, in 1697, to Ludlow, where he passed his time in scientific pursuits of a speculative character, the results of which appear to have died with him. His portrait, by Sir Godfrey Kneller, now in the possession of Mrs. Boddam Castle, of Grove House, Clifton (a descendant of the Killigrews), fully harmonizes with what we know of his character. One practical thing, however, he did: viz., to build the public quay at Falmouth; and to that old town, endeared to him by so many pleasant memories of the past, were his remains conveyed to be interred in the parish church, among those of his more immediate ancestors. The monuments are not, at present, to be seen; perhaps they are hidden under the raised floor of the chancel: but there were laid, in 1704, the remains of Sir Peter Killigrew,—the last male in the main[64] line.
George, his son, though, as we have seen, he died young, was not unmarried. He gained for his wife an offshoot of another old Cornish family, Ann, daughter of Sir John St. Aubyn, Bart., by whom he had issue one daughter (Ann), married to a Major John Dunbar. To the heiress of the ill-starred Erissey match—Sir Peter's youngest grand-daughter, Mary—the bulk of the remaining Killigrew property seems to have descended; and through her the present representative of the family (the Earl of Kimberley) holds it. She married, in 1711, a Colonel John West.[65]
There are few things more amusing in its way than the account which Mr. R. N. Worth has preserved for us in the Journal of the Royal Institution of Cornwall, of the arrangements which Martin Killigrew (Lister) requested should be made for Colonel West's reception at Arwenack. They are as follows:
'Mr. Abrm. Hall,
* * * * *
'It is but by guess I have to tell you that you are not to expect to see ye Coln. till about ye end of ye first week in May, who bringing with him ye young gentleman[66] in question, must add considerably to ye flurry you will be put in from his being a person of great consideration as I hear, tho' I know not so much as his name and as Little any particular of his circumstances. But suppose you must be advised by the Coln. as to your providing accommodation for their Retinue: Two bed chambers for ye gentlemen you will put in ye best order you can; a room for ye servants to Eat in: The best Cook your Town affords; some choise good Hambs and a provision of fatt chickens: Wine you must leave Mr. James to provide; and if any fine green Tea[67] be to be had, you must secure some of it, as what ye Coln. is most Nice in, and drinkes much off. Two of ye largest Tea potts you can borrow, He using them both at a time. Nice and knowing beyond ye comon in providing a Table, so that your Mother will only have to receive his orders every morning on that head. The stable put in ye best order you can, provided with Hay and Corne.
'If I do not greatly mistake, this flurry cannot continue above three weeks, for that their impatience will be greater to get back to Bath than it is to see Falmouth.
'You are still in time to see that your Closett and Books be put in ye best Order you can, and nothing to be seen there belonging to other people's business, but only to ye Estate. You will finde ye Coln. quick of comprehention and as ready at figures as can be supposed.
'At ye same time you observe to them ye great sums I have raised from ye Estate you will do me Justice to note ye improvements I have made upon it. And that tho' times are now dead as thro'out ye kingdome, yet as they have been good it may reasonably be hoped they will be so again, & that in ye main you doubt not of giving a yearly demonstration (by ye Rentall) of ye increase of ye Estate; when Diner is over you get back to your Closet, and as you see it proper, you returne with your pen in your ear, making ye Coln. sensible he is wanted above, whereby he may git rid of impertinant Compn. if such be with him. Nor can I see in respect to time ye Coln. can do more in business than from day to day, he giving you orders which you will take in writing, and at parting take his hand to them, you giving him a duplicate.
'You will be able to borrow glasses, knives, forks, and spoons, with some handsome pieces of plate, in everything to make ye best figure you can; and if you can borrow a better horse than your own, you ought to do it. Relying upon ye Coln. generosity (His greatest fault), you will be nothing out of pocket upon this occasion. As from me pray your Mother to trouble ye Coln. with as Little of her conversation as her business will admit off. I thinke enough at a time to a man of your accute parts—
'Yours
'Mart. Killigrew.
'St. James's, 16th April, 1737.'
It will be seen from the above that Martin was a man of some mettle, and able to manage the affairs of his stewardship adroitly, though far away from the scene. He was always at war with the Corporation of Falmouth, of which borough he was for some time Recorder, and he died in St. James's Square, London, on 7th March, 1745.[68]
Amongst the latest notices of any member of the family that I have met with, one is contained in the sprightly pages of Mrs. Delany's 'Life and Correspondence;' the subject of her remarks seems to have been a true Killigrew, at least so far as his dramatic talent affords any indication. On the 26th January, 1752, at Mr. Bushe's (near Dublin), at a dinner-party, she met a Mr. Killigrew, who was 'a very entertaining, charming man, well-bred, good-humoured, and sings in a most extraordinary manner; has a fine voice, fine taste, no knowledge of music, but the exactest imitation of Senesino and Monticelli that you can imagine. He sings French songs incomparably, with so much humour that in spite of my gloom he made me laugh heartily.'
Of another, the last male of his name, Thomas Guildford Killigrew, I find from Notes and Queries, 1873, p. 224, and also from other sources, including information[69] with which I have been favoured by Mrs. Boddam Castle, that he married Miss Catharine Chubb, a distant relative, after having much impoverished himself in the Stuart cause in 1745, and that he settled in Bristol for the sake of economy. He died in 1782 without issue. At his death Mrs. Killigrew adopted her great niece, Mary Iago, afterwards married to Daniel Wait, Mayor of Bristol, in 1805. On the death of Mrs. Killigrew, in 1810, the family plate and portraits (one of the latter, Sir Peter Killigrew, by Sir Godfrey Kneller, and another, of Thomas Guildford Killigrew himself) passed to Mrs. Wait by will, and from her to Mrs. Boddam Castle, wife of Mr. Boddam Castle, barrister-at-law, now residing at Clifton. Some of the plate is more than 150 years old; the crest a demi-griffin, with 'T.C.K.' over it.
The last who bore the surname of Killigrew was Frances Maria (daughter of George Augustus Killigrew, of Bond Street), who died in Portman Street, London, on 20th July, 1819, aged seventy-one.
And here let us pause, after having exhausted (so far as I am aware) all the sources of information, and having, I believe, at least set down all that was noteworthy, of the elder branch of the Killigrews.
THE SECOND BRANCH.
John Killigrew, the first Captain of Pendennis, had three brothers, James, Thomas, and Bennet, of whom I can learn nothing of interest. And he also had other sons than John the second knight, his successor at Pendennis Castle, of whom we have already heard. One son—Thomas—died young. Another, the fourth son, was the famous Sir Henry Killigrew, Knight, who sat as Member of Parliament for Launceston in 1552-53, and for Truro about twenty years later. Him let us take as our first representative of the younger branch of the family. He is described as a Teller of the Exchequer, Commander of 'Newhaven' (Nieuwport), and Ambassador to Germany, France (where he temporarily relieved Sir Francis Walsingham), Scotland, the Palatinate, Frankfort, and the Low Countries.[70] Of a man of such mark—one whom Emerson would have called 'a bright personality'—traces would assuredly be forthcoming; and we do not seek them in vain amongst the Lansdowne, the Cottonian, the Egerton, and the 'Additional' Manuscripts in the British Museum; amongst the Scotch MSS.; and in the Public Record Office. Moreover, the Yelverton MSS. contain references to him, as also do the collections in Lambeth Palace Library. Most of these are Letters, Instructions, and Memorials, referring to the diplomatic functions which he was called upon to discharge, and partaking rather too much of the 'Dryasdust' character to be interesting to the general reader. There are some verses by him to 'My Ladye Cecylle' (his wife's sister), preserved in the Cambridge University Library; but I propose to omit these in favour of some Latin lines addressed to the same lady by Sir Henry's wife; not only because of the courteous maxim, 'Place aux dames,' but also because the lady's verses are really charming. In lieu of any specimen of Sir Henry's poetic vein, an extract from a letter which he wrote from Edinburgh, on 6th October, 1572, descriptive of John Knox—towards the close of his life—and some other fragments of his prose, will probably be more acceptable. 'John Knox,' he says, 'is now so feeble as scarce can he stand alone, or speak to be heard of any audience, yet doth he every Sunday cause himself to be carried to a place where a certain number do hear him, and preacheth with the same vehemency and zeal that ever he did.' This account is fully confirmed by another contemporary description of him, which is so graphic that I cannot refrain from giving it.
From May, 1571, to August, 1572, Knox lived in St. Andrews, and frequently preached there. 'I haid my pen and my little book,' says James Melville, 'and tuk away sic things as I could comprehend. In the opening upe of his text he was moderat the space of an halff houre; bot when he enteret to application, he maid me sa to grew & tremble, that I could nocht hald a pen to wryt.... He was verie weak. I saw him everie day of his doctrine go hulie and fear, with a furring of martriks about his neck, a staff in the an hand, and guid godlie Richart Ballanden, his servand, halding upe the uther oxtar, from the Abbay to the paroche kirk; and be the said Richart and another servant, lifted upe to the pulpit, whar he behovit to lean at his first entrie; bot or he haid done with his sermont, he was sa active and vigorus that he was lyk to ding that pulpit in blads, and fly out of it!' But his work was nearly done; weary of the world, and 'thirsting to depart,' in a few months he entered into his rest.
We learn of Sir Henry, from Heppe, that Queen Elizabeth being very desirous of concluding a sincere alliance, or 'Common League,' between herself and the Evangelical Princes of the Empire, sent to the Elector Palatine and other the Electors of the Holy Roman Empire and the States, Henry Killigrew—her 'approved and faithful servant'—and her 'orator,' Dr. Mount, with a view to counteracting 'the pernicious and sanguinary plots of certain persons against all the professors of the Holy Gospel in every place.' The Congress to which they were accredited met at Frankfort, in April, 1569, but Killigrew and Mount arrived too late for it.
These, and other of his diplomatic missions are referred to in the following extract from a memorial in Leonard Howard's 'Collection of Letters of Princes, Great Personages, and Statesmen.' After recounting his many[71] diplomatic missions for his Queen to France, 'to discover theire intents there against this Realme;' to Germany, 'to sound the Princes of Germanye touching a League defensive for Religion' (for which he had 'but Fortye Pounds allowance for all manner of Chardges; which coste me as muche more with the least'); and again several times to those Countries, as well as to Scotland in 1573, and to Newhaven, where he was hurt and imprisoned—Sir Henry thus concludes:
'Now for all these Journeys, Chardges, Daungers, Hurtes and Losses, in the meanwhile, and the Tyme used only in her Majesties' service, without any Proffitt of my owne, I have only to lyve by, of Her Majesties' Goodness, the Tellershippe, which was given me before I went to Newehaven....' In consideration of all which—by way of a provision for his family—he prefers a 'Suite for the said Firme of the Manor of Sarrake (?) in Cornwall ...'; adding, 'The Rent is somewhat great, I confess; but truly the Profitt nothinge equall.'
Let us hope that services so long, so faithful, and so important, at length received their reward. That they probably did may be surmised from the following account of the close of his active career, given by the Cornish historian Carew: 'After ambassades and messages, and many other profitable employments of peace and warre, in his prince's service, to the good of his country, (Sir Henry Killigrew) hath made choyce of a retyred estate, and, reverently regarded by all sorts, placeth his principal contentment in himselfe, which, to a life so well acted, can no way bee wanting.'
Lord Burleigh's instructions to him,[72] on the subject of his Scotch mission, written with his own hand, dated 10th September, 1572, especially as to getting Mary Queen of Scots out of the kingdom, and delivering her to the Regent's party, form a most interesting document. The letter closes thus: 'Herein yow shall, as Comodite shall serve yow, use all good Spede, with the most Secresy that yow can, to understand their Mynds; and yet so to deale to your uttermost, that this Matter might be rather Oppened to yow, than yourself to seme first to move it....'
Another object of his momentous mission to Scotland, as to which Elizabeth gave him her instructions with her own mouth, was to impress upon Mary Queen of Scots a sense of her faults, her duties, and her danger—a vain task! Froude gives an account of the interview, which took place after Darnley's murder. 'The windows at Holyrood were half-closed, the rooms were darkened, and in the profound gloom the English Ambassador was unable to see the Queen's face, but by her words she seemed very doleful.' And at length, having extorted from her a promise that Bothwell should be put upon his trial, Killigrew went back to London in less than a week, after having carried out his difficult and delicate duty 'like a loyal servant.'
The 'Cabala' states that when Henry Killigrew went to France, he was considered 'in livelihood much inferior to Walsingham;' but Leicester's opinion of him was subjected to revision. He says he found our hero 'a quicker and stouter fellow than he tooke him for.' I have often wondered whether this impression was derived from Sir Henry's bearing when the question of his pay was mooted. '60/ a pece, per dyem' had been set down, complains Leicester, writing to Walsingham on 15th December, 1585, as the pay of Killigrew and his colleague, whereas he had understood it was to be only 40s. The Earl's impression proved to be correct, and heart-burnings doubtless arose; with what result I know not, but Leicester's revised estimate of his man may point to the event. Sir H. Killigrew was at the siege of St. Quentin, in 1557; and Sir James Melville says how he met at La Ferre (? La Frette) 'Maister Hary Killygrew, an Englis gentleman, my auld frend, wha held my horse till I sate down in ane barbour's buith, to be pensit of the hurt in my head.'[73] He is found described, amongst the strangers resident in London in 1595 ('Nichols' Collections,' viii. 206), as living then in 'Broad Street Warde;' and he died on the 16th March, 1602/3. The character of this 'Admirable Crichton' has been so well drawn by David Lloyd in his 'State Worthies,' that I cannot refrain from giving it, in the words of Whitworth's translation.